Chapter 1: A Game on a Plane Has Far Reaching Effects

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Mult, Consensual, Romantic, BiSexual, Fiction, Slut Wife, Cuckold, Wife Watching, Incest, Swinging, Group Sex, Polygamy/Polyamory, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Fisting, Sex Toys, Pregnancy, Cream Pie, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Double Penetration,

Desc: Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 1: A Game on a Plane Has Far Reaching Effects - Upgrade is a novel that deals with the relationship transformations of a number of characters. The plot winds through the development and daily living of a highly sexed polyamorous intentional family that develops over several years. Hot sex plays a major role in the story; there are other themes too. The sex gets detailed, hot, wet, sloppy, and sometimes repetitive; that's real life. Chapter 1 is longer than others to get the reader into the story. Not all categories appear in any one chapter.

“Good evening Mr. Winslow. Welcome to American Airlines. I see you checking in for our flight to Tampa ... may I see some photo identification? Any bags to check?”

I passed over my Florida driver’s license to the cute young agent at the desk. She glanced at it and me several times to verify my resemblance to the photo, and then passed it back to me. I didn’t think I looked too much like that photo any longer: premature salt and pepper hair, deeper tan than the pasty white skin I’d had when I first moved to Florida, and five more years of wrinkles that made me look like I’d gained more wisdom than I really had. All that, and I was only in my thirties.

“OK, Mr. Winslow. Here’s your boarding pass. For being a loyal customer to American Airlines, we’ve upgraded you to first class for this trip.” The pretty blonde bimbo looked up at me and gave me a broad toothy smile that would make her orthodontist happy. It was the nicest one of my entire trip, and I wondered if she’d ever meet Mr. Right in the job she had as a ticket agent at LAX – the fifth busiest airport in the country. Things at the airport were unusually quiet for this time of night – ten-thirty is pretty late except for the last of the arriving flights and the few departing red eyes heading east or to Europe.

I pulled my roller bag away from the counter, went through security – now being able to cut out a lot of the security bullshit after having gotten my TSA-Pre number, not that there were a lot of people waiting to go through the one line at this time of night; I could keep my shoes and belt on, didn’t have to unpack my computer and turn it on, and usually only got a cursory body check.

I arrived at the gate just as I heard the last call for the other first class passengers to board. An announcement over the speaker in the gate area then called for ‘First Class and those seated in rows thirty and higher to board.’ There weren’t a lot of passengers, so I could see why I’d been the fortunate recipient of the bump to first class. It had happened before. I traveled a lot as part of my job as a security consultant, several hundred thousand miles a year according to my frequent flyer accounts which I seldom used. If you traveled that much, the last thing you wanted to do on your own time was get back on another airplane.

I followed several others down the jet way, got on the plane, and immediately stowed my bag in the overhead above seat 2B. A pretty blonde in a business suit about my age sat in 2A next to the window. She looked up, smiled, and we nodded at each other; I slipped my briefcase under the seat in front of me, and sat down. I would be on the plane for the next five or six hours – L.A. to Tampa – a red eye: take off Thursday evening at eleven o’clock L.A. time, and land Friday at six-thirty the next morning three time zones to the east.

I popped a paperback book out of my blazer pocket – a mystery by Harlan Corben. Before I started to read, I took two minutes to just cool down from the rush to the airport after a dinner with a potential client – a subsidiary of a large aerospace company that had offices that abutted LAX. I left the dinner later than I’d planned, so I’d had to hustle to catch this flight. I closed my eyes and did a two-minute drill of mindfulness that made my senses recover from their dulled state that the slight excess of dinner and wine had also induced.

I sensed the woman next to me as I did my speed meditation. Even with my eyes closed I recalled the visual snapshot I’d taken of her: early to mid thirties – close to my age; serious business dress – heels, maxi skirt, white silk blouse, scarf, and blazer – expensive, and obviously from the finer shops somewhere. She’d had a no nonsense look, plus a trace of a subtle perfume that I liked. Her pretty face had just a touch of make up – nothing overdone, carefully coiffured hair, manicured nails with a natural gloss, again the expensive and chic look, but all business – not flashy. She wore modestly high-heeled shoes, Ferragamos. They looked expensive too.

I opened my eyes and turned to look at her to see if I’d remembered her correctly. I had. She’d put on reading glasses that half-covered her eyes, and was reviewing some kind of financial statement. I purposely avoided trying to read the paper; I wasn’t the nosy kind. In her hand she had a red pen and would occasionally circle some part of each page and jot a word or two in the margin. I saw one word she wrote in the margin in large print, ‘Bullshit!!!’

I started to read my own book as the other passengers filed on the plane, most bumping my shoulder with their shoulder bags. Eventually, the parade stopped, the doors were closed, several safety announcements were made, the plane taxied for a mile or two, and then we took off.

After the rapid rise to altitude for noise abatement, the plane turned east and slowed its ascent, and the flight attendants started to move around.

There was only one other man in first class two rows behind us, so the one attendant dedicated to first class would have a relaxed flight with only three of us.

The attendant had a nametag that read ‘Helen – Austin, TX.’ She leaned over the seat in front of us with a natural smile. “Good evening. May I get you a drink and a snack?” She consulted her passenger manifest, “Miss Reynolds? ... Mr. Winslow?”

I watched the pretty woman on my left. “Chardonnary, if you please, and yes on the snack.” She glanced at me to handoff our ordering process.

I said, “Helen, I’ll join the lady with a Chardonnary but skip the snack. A glass of ice too, if you please.”

The attendant moved to the only other passenger well behind us in first class and I heard the same litany go by, but a turn down of the offer for anything. I knew many passengers preferred to try to sleep on a red eye. I’d never mastered the skill; at best, I was good for an hour nap.

Just as I was thinking of moving across the aisle to an empty row, a voice to my left that sounded friendly said, “Pam.”

I glanced at her with a smile, anticipating her next question as well; “Bob, and yes, I’m headed home for the long weekend. I live in Sarasota.”

Pam smiled, “Oh, me too, neighbor ... well actually I live in Lakewood Ranch, but that’s right next door and used to be considered Sarasota.” She paused and asked tentatively, “Were you were out in L.A. on business?”

I nodded and responded to the question, “Yeah. I’m a consultant specializing in cyber-security. I was talking to a client out here the past two days about their approach to external threats. Sounds boring, but I actually enjoy the work. I’m a computer jock at heart, even though I’ve left some of the nitty-gritty stuff behind at this point in my career. This afternoon’s visit and my dinner involved romancing an old client where I’m hoping for some follow-on work.” I paused and asked, “How about you?”

Pam said with a smile. “As of six months ago, I run a hedge fund. It’s my own invention, and deals with non-traditional investments.”

My eyebrows went up and I gestured for her to say more.

“Well, I’ve got a pile of money – my own small pot and a lot from other investors – who like being in non-stock-market kind of investments, in today’s case something in the film industry. Thus I was out there talking to some of the people in that industry and trying to get them to open up about their finances, but so far I’m not all that happy with what I’ve rooted out of them.” She gestured to the paper on her tray table; the word ‘Bullshit!!!’ still loomed large on the page next to the columns of numbers. She added, “My mother lives in L.A. too, so I got a short visit with her too.”

She gave me a coy look and added, “When you used the word ‘romancing’ in what you do, it sounds like more fun that what I was doing.” The flirting index had just risen another ten points.

I laughed, “Well, romancing puts an interesting spin on it, except I’m just a normal heterosexual male trying to put food on my table. I don’t see much romance in cyber-security. Maybe I should have used a different word, but ‘selling’ sounds so mundane and unexciting.

Our conversation passed through the getting to know you stage, more about our jobs, our education, and where we grew up, and soon I had the feeling that I’d known Pam for years, and she was responding to me the same way. Of course, there was this man-woman, male-female dynamic going on too; another way of saying that we were flirting outrageously with each other.

After our third glass of wine, mine atop what I’d had at dinner, and Pam’s obviously following up on something she’d had earlier, we were both feeling pretty mellow and apparently a little daring.

Pam took the initiative in a low and seductive tone, “You said a while ago that you were a normal heterosexual male. If that’s the case, I’m the same way – well, a female, that is. Does that intrigue you at all?

I laughed at the obvious flirt and innuendo. “Most definitely. What do you have in mind?” I gestured around the first class cabin with a laugh, briefly imagining the two of us making love across one of the seats after we pushed up the console between us or reclined a seat to the horizontal position. I tossed the ball back to her with a glance.

“A game, if you dare.” She looked at me teasingly.

“What kind of game? Are there rules?”

“Oh, it’s my kind of game and probably yours too, given that you’re a heterosexual male. I’ll make up the rules as we go along and you play along. It’ll be a bit salacious. Are you up for some titillating fun for a few hours as we zip across America? After all, we may never see each other again, so we can play without consequences.”

I laughed again, “Try me. I suppose I can always say no, and by the way, everything has consequences.”

“Oh, yes. And no means no. Now where have I heard that before? Oh, well, let’s begin. I’m going to call this game... ‘Fantasies.’”

“Sounds interesting. How do we start?”

“So you tell me a sexual fantasy of yours, and then I’ll either elaborate on it or tell you one of mine and then you elaborate or toss in a new fantasy. We’ll go back and forth for a little while, and see where that takes us. Some time to come up with imaginative ideas is permitted.” Pam gave me a wide but lecherous grin. I sensed all sorts of sexual heat from her. I had the feeling she was not this forward normally, and that it was definitely the wine talking and the intimate nature of a dimly lit cabin, and of it being near midnight and somewhere over Arizona or New Mexico.

“So, I’m supposed to just layout one of my favorite fantasies for you, here on this airplane, to a pretty woman who I only met an hour or so earlier – nearly a complete stranger? What kind of man do you think I am?” I cackled.

Pam nodded enthusiastically and kept grinning. She said, “The kind of man with all sorts of fantasies and secret lives he’d like to live.” She sat forward in her seat and leaned over to me. The cockpit lights had been dimmed, but we could still see each other well in the dimly lit cabin. The atmosphere was actually romantic.

I ventured onto this dangerous landscape, figuring that I’d try a little shock value, “Well, I don’t think I’m different from many other males in that I’d love to participate in a threesome with my partner sometime before I die – sooner better than later.”

Pam immediately retorted, “Oh, you have a partner?” Throughout our discussion about our lives, we had both studiously avoided revealing our marital status. I did it purposely to tease her and to lead her on a little. I’d been curious to see how she’d broach the subject given the level of flirting we’d reached.

I replied, “I once did, but for the past year and a half I’ve been a confirmed bachelor.” My tone apparently didn’t invite further probing, and that was fine with me at this point in our game. Even as I said it, I wondered why I’d used the word ‘confirmed.’

Pam smiled, “I plan to add on to what you said, and I’m going to appear in your fantasy too; it’ll make it more personal and playful for us. There are different kinds of threesomes, and I’d love to be in a threesome, in my case with you and another handsome guy.” She gestured for me to continue and again touched my arm in a flirty gesture.

I saw that we were to build on the fantasy, to add details. I stroked Pam’s fingers on my arm with my forefinger to indicate that I liked the physical contact. I said, “Well, we’d come back to my condo from a dinner, the three of us, and we’d sit down in the living room. I’d be on your right, and let’s say Jon would be on your left.” I gestured for her to continue the story.

Pam started, “I’d be so pleased with both of you, and our dinner, and how we all fit together that I’d turn to you and we’d kiss quite passionately – lots of tongue, and then I’d turn to Jon and do the same thing. We’d go back and forth for a while, and there’d be some really heavy breathing as we French kissed. It’d be really romantic.”

Pam stopped talking and looked at me expectantly. I could tell this was just the kind of game she’d planned on. Her deep blue eyes were twinkling with mischief even in the dim light the attendant had left on in our cabin.

I said, “I’d get up and go to my bar and pour a small glass of Grand Marnier. I’d come back to the sofa, and take a sip and then I’d enter into a French kiss with you. After we were kissing I’d jet some of the rich liqueur into your mouth as part of my kiss of love to you.” I figured I toss a little more flirting and romance into our game as well as hint at something more physical and sensuous.

“Do it,” Pam implored, touching my arm again with her hand to add emphasis to her request; she even squeezed and pushed my arm slightly. She had pretty hands, with long tapering fingers. I wondered if there was anything about this woman that I couldn’t love.

“Do what, kiss you?” I must have sounded hopeful. I’d never had a one-night stand on an airplane before, but there was always a first time for everything.

Pam urged, “Yes, a kiss, but also with the Grand Marnier. The attendant probably has some. Ask her.” She glanced towards the plane’s galley and nudged me again.

I got up from my seat and walked into the galley at the front of the first class section. Our flight attendant was seated and reading a thick paperback. This was one relaxed flight, and in the middle of the night with only three people to care for I knew she had little to do. She looked up and smiled warmly. I asked for the liqueur, and she indeed had it on board. She gave me two bottles, and a glass.

As I returned to my seat I glanced at the only other passenger in the first class cabin. He was sprawled out in the last seat in first class wearing an eyeshade and obviously asleep. His mouth was open and I could see a line of drool coming from his mouth. Behind him, the curtains were also drawn across the aisle heading back to the darkened coach section on the relatively empty plane.

I sat down, poured one of the small bottles of the rich orange liqueur into the glass, and took a sip. I took another, and then leaned across the small console between our seats.

Pam looked eager, and she leaned to me and closed her eyes. I found her mouth and brushed my lips back and forth across her lips, before centering and then running my tongue into her mouth. After ‘lock’ had been made, I squirted the fluid from my mouth into hers.

Pam moaned. Her hand came up around my neck and pulled me into a longer, deeper, and more meaningful kiss with her. We came up for air a few times, but returned to kissing after each break. My brain was doing cartwheels; this was the best airplane flight ever.

Finally, she pulled away slightly and really studied me. I think she was trying to look into my inner most thoughts to see if I was feeling the same things for her that she’d started to feel for me. I was.

She whispered, “You almost made me peak. That’s the hottest kiss by far of any I’ve ever had in my entire life, ... and I’ve kissed a lot of frogs. You are no frog, my fair prince. I hope you like your princess because she really likes you.” She smiled at me warmly and then kissed me again. I liked how Pam kissed too, and hoped that the rest of our trip would contain a lot of this pleasant pastime. I hadn’t started to think beyond the plane’s landing, but I wondered.

Pam added after a break in our kisses, “Now, do that to me again, please – your liquid kiss.”

I took another sip of the now rich liqueur, and we entered into another hot kiss. As we kissed and our temperatures rose, I blasted a healthy dose of the liqueur into her mouth. Pam moaned a long, low sound that turned into a growl and then a purring sound. When we parted she and I looked deep into each other’s eyes for a long time – over a minute, maybe even two. Without a word we were communicating on many levels.

Finally, Pam whispered, “Back to our fantasy. After doing that a few times with me, I lean over and start to undo your shirt, button by button.” She coyly smiled at me, and then reached up with one finger and gently toyed with the top button to my shirt, eventually unbuttoning it.

I could tell it was my turn, so I said, “And I watch as Jon reaches around you from behind and holds your luscious breasts, fondling them with an obvious goal to excite and entice you to further sexual and romantic action.”

Pam said, “And after I finish unbuttoning your shirt, I turn to Jon and unbutton his shirt. When I turn back to you, you’ve removed your shirt revealing your manly chest. Behind me I know Jon is doing the same thing.”

After a tender kiss on Pam’s lips, I whispered, “And after kissing you softly and tenderly to communicate to you my deep affection and passion for you, I pull your shirt from your skirt and gently pull it over your head. Now, you sit between us in only a lacy bra that reveals more than it hides.” As I talked I stroked Pam’s tummy through her blouse just above her skirt belt with one finger. My message got across in only a few seconds.

Pam reached to the tray in front of me and picked up the glass of Grand Marnier. She took a sip and then reached over and pulled my head to hers. As we kissed, she jetted the liqueur into my mouth as her tongue probed for mine and I sucked on her muscle.

Pam whispered more to herself than to me, “God. I had no idea this game would become such a turn on so fast. This is way beyond my best expectations. I hope you’re liking it as much as I am. I hope you’re liking me as much as I’m liking you.”

I nodded with an obvious smile of appreciation.

Pam kissed me a few times, and then added to our fantasy. “After losing my top, I turn to Jon and kiss him with the Grand Marnier. We both moan and get highly aroused, and then he runs his fingers across the edges of my brassiere, stroking my skin, and raising my body heat and lust to an even higher level.”

I stepped in, “And as Jon is doing that and I’m behind you, I kiss your shoulder and then undo the small hooks holding the bra to your body. As it loosens, I push the flimsy material down your arms.”

Pam panted, “And Jon catches the material and sets it aside. He leans in and kisses my nearest nipple, bringing it to a sharp point that could etch glass. While he does that, you are kissing my shoulder, neck, and nibbling on my ears from behind me. You know those things really turn me on. You’re also turned on watching me kiss Jon and share the liqueur with him in our French kisses.”

I smiled at how she was revealing her weak points to me. We had each other in a state of high sexual heat. I wondered if we’d end up fucking in the aisle because we couldn’t wait. I glanced around the plane’s cabin, but all was quiet and unmoving.

I leaned in and kissed Pam again, finding a more than willing partner. This time between kisses our tongues dueled gently but passionately in the open air between our mouths. This was one hot woman in my arms and she tasted like heaven.

I didn’t push our physical contact. While she might be enjoying the kisses, if I were to even inadvertently stroke her breasts with a finger or hand, it might blow the delicate balance we’d created in our new friendship.

Pam asked gently as we parted one time, “Bob, do you have a sense of humor?”

“I do. I’m not into practical jokes or slapstick comedy at all, but I love jokes, humor, and sarcasm in the right dose and in the right place. I am easily amused and find humor even in tragic situations, providing I’m not too involved in them.”

“Did you find humor in your divorce?”

I chuckled at Pam’s not so subtle probe about how I’d ‘lost’ my partner over a year prior. She’d made the correct assumption that I’d been divorced, but based on virtually no information I’d offered beforehand other than referring to activities I did using ‘I’ and not ‘We’ vocabulary.

“Yes, I guess I did. I laughed at myself for being unaware of how my ex was getting involved with someone else despite a list of signals as long as your arm. I didn’t think it was tragic; it just ‘is’ or ‘was.’ We’d had a great seven-year marriage, but that’s all the time it was meant to last. We’re still friends, and I even like her new husband. We’ve been on a couple of double dates.”

“Really? Do you have a steady girlfriend?”

“No, no one special. I’ve gone out a few times. My ex, Reese, thinks she has to fix me up with dates because she instigated our separation, but I don’t think she knew what she wanted at the time. I’m really quite content with the flow of things, but I humor her so when she calls to arrange something I’ll generally go, but none of her dates have amounted to anything serious such as a second date. My best guy friend thinks he has to fix me up too, but I think he knows now that I’d rather find a girlfriend on my own.”

Pam pecked me on the cheek and then said in an urgent tone, “OK, back to the game. It was your turn.”

“Ah, yes. You’d just become naked from the waist up; an exceptionally pleasant thought, I might add.” I ogled Pam up and down rather obviously; she flashed me a smile that I’d noticed her body. I went on, “After Jon has kissed and sucked on your breasts for a while, he turns you towards me so he can take over turning you on with kisses to your back, shoulders, neck, and ears. He also wants me to kiss you and share soul kisses with you. You like that coming from the two of us; you are really turned on. I romance your breasts with my hands, lips, tongue, and mouth. I gently suck, milking you and heating you up. You respond by holding my head to your chest and urging me on. I often come up and kiss you too when Jon is otherwise occupied.”

I paused; Pam was hanging on my every word and lightly panting. I asked, “What about you? Boyfriend? Husband? Steady?”

She shook her head to come back to reality, “Oh, right now, no one. Had a husband for a while, like you – about five years; it ended about five years ago. No kids, not that I wouldn’t like some. You?”

“No kids either. I’d like being a dad. I’m an uncle to a couple of great kids of my brother and his wife, but that’s it. They’re outside of Atlanta, so I don’t see them too much. It’s not that we choose to ignore each other; it’s just that we’re busy with our own lives and hence don’t talk too much. How about your sense of humor and tolerance?”

Pam grinned. “I have a good sense of humor that sounds like yours. Anyone I get serious about must have one too ... and be tolerant of all my little foibles. I probably have a lot of them if I think about it. I think I’m tolerant of a lot of things with people. I have about twenty staff in my company, and thus a wide range of personalities and dispositions and get along with all of them. I think they like me as a boss too.”

I asked in a teasing tone, “Have you ever been in an open marriage or relationship?”

Pam pondered that question for a moment. “No, but I wouldn’t mind so long as the door swung both ways. I don’t think I want to swing on a steady basis, but I do think there’s a ‘fun’ component to sex that most people overlook or avoid. I wouldn’t want to step outside a relationship unless my partner was solidly into it too.”

I said, “Your turn.” I reminded Pam about our game.

“Oh, yeah. So, after a few minutes of kissing both you and Jon, I undo belt buckles and zippers on each of you. I can reach inside your pants and I find that you’re both excited about the prospects for the rest of the evening with me.”

I picked up from there, “As you do that, we are both fondling your breasts, and Jon has undone the button and zipper holding up your skirt on your shapely body. From my angle, I run my hand up your legs all the way to your most private area. I stroke you through your bikini undies and I find that you are soaked with your wonderful sexual juices through and through. You’re as excited as we are.”

I paused and asked another deep question of Pam, “What do you think holds a relationship together? How do you know you’re loved?” I kissed her briefly.

Pam openly panted from our elaborate and growing fantasy, but I could tell she put some thought into the answers because of the look on her face as she thought. To gain some time to think she made out with me for a minute.

She broke away and said, “Love is the glue, and there’s got to be a lot of it. It’s got to be palpable every day so that neither partner ever doubts how the other feels about them. I read a book once about the five languages of love; as I recall they were quality time, words of affirmation, gifts, service for the other partner, and of course physical touch in some way. The last point, sex is important to me. I like to be touched and held and cuddled by the man I love. I want to be close to my lover and him close to me – quality time; I guess that means we talk about deep things often, really trying to understand how each of us think about the world. I don’t care too much about a flow of gifts or having things done for me – once in a while is nice, but not all the time. I guess some words affirming our relationship and ‘us’ are nice too, but I’m a self-starter so I don’t need much outside affirmation about my own goodness. How about you?”

I chuckled, “I think we’re very aligned. Reese liked quality time, gifts and me doing things for her. I guess I was too focused on my career at the time, so our quality time slipped. She had a friend she met through work at the hospital who started to provide those things, at first in a platonic way, and then things got romantic between them. They started a short affair, and then came to me for both forgiveness and to ask for Reese’s release from our marriage. I knew it was the right thing for her even though I was broken up about it. We had a peaceful separation, but Reese promised me that she’d still be in my life in what she called a nice way. I had to accept that – not much choice really. They had a small wedding when things were final; I was an official witness.”

I continued, “I’m pretty physical too; sex is a vital element in a relationship for me. I was a nerd through college, so didn’t date much and certainly didn’t have much sex. Reese was a pretty tightly wound female without experience too. We dated, eventually slept together – but only after we were engaged, and then had a pretty plain vanilla marriage as far as the sex went. Since we parted, I’ve found a whole new world of sexual experiences and fun out there, although for me it’s all pretty new. As for the glue in a relationship, I agree it’s love, but it’s also an openness to try new things, to support my partner even in endeavors that might do little for me, and so on. I really think I’ll be a better husband the next time around, but I’m not rushing to get married. I’m happy.”

Pam soaked in my responses like a damp sponge. After some contemplation she asked, “If we were married would you let me have an affair?”

“No, definitely not; that’s secretive and destructive. Besides the word ‘Let’ implies that I have some ownership over you, and that I give you permission to do some things and deny permission to do others. You or anyone I would be in a relationship with would be your own person, making your own decisions, and taking responsibility for your own actions. So, in answer to your question I might encourage you to have a deep and loving relationship with another man or woman where you openly share what’s happening and how you’re feeling with me. I would hope that your ‘other’ relationship wouldn’t end with us parting and that we would still have the bond of love between us, but if that’s what happened, I think I’d realize that was meant to be.”

Pam snorted, “You wouldn’t care if I had a lesbian relationship?”

“Most men, me included, get turned on by the idea. I’d want to be there some of the time and watch, or participate. Now, that’s a whole other fantasy we haven’t gotten to yet – the other kind of threesome.” I grinned lecherously at her.

Pam thought a moment and said, “My turn in our fantasy. I stand up in front of you and Jon, and I slowly shimmy my skirt and half-slip down my legs. I have good-looking legs, and as they become entirely visible to you two, I can watch your eyes enlarge in anticipation. I step out of my skirt and toss it over a nearby chair with our shirts.” As she talked Pam looked down at her heavily cloaked legs beneath her dark skirt. I had to take it on face value that she did indeed have nice legs.

I picked up the lead again, “I kneel, and then reach up and catch your hand. I kiss your palm and wrap your fingers around the kiss. I then pull you to me so your sex, still in your undies is right in front of me at mouth level. I lean in and blow hot air through the lacy gusset of your bikinis right onto your sex. I can hear you moan into a kiss with Jon as I do that. I can also inhale the aroma of your arousal and it makes me that much harder and hornier.”

I paused and asked, “Do you believe in polyamory?”

Pam responded nearly instantly, “Yes. The more you love, the more you can love. Someone famous said that, an author I think.”

“If you were in a polyamorous relationship what would it be like?”

Pam said, “Besides wonderful – and I’m probably fantasizing here? I’d see it as a somewhat small group of us, maybe five or six; a mix of men and women, pretty balanced. I’d see us sexually intimate with each other in various combinations. Since we’re both heterogeneous folks, most of the time it would be with members of the opposite sex, but once in a while we might play around with others. I’ve never been with another woman, but I guess I’d be willing to try with the right person and in a loving setting.”

“Me too,” I volunteered. “I’ve never even entertained the idea of touching another man. I’m a little homophobic I know, but tolerant of people of that persuasion. I could get used to another male being around in a threesome, but I wouldn’t want to do much of anything with him.”

“Does the idea of watching someone fuck me turn you on?” I couldn’t help but note the personalization of her question.

“Hell, yes. You’re the sexiest woman on the planet. I’d get intensely aroused watching you make love to someone – like Jon, but I’d also get pangs of jealousy and I’d worry about losing you to a better lover or a more intense physical experience. I’ve sort of been there with Reese, but that was an affair and I was really shut out of her life by then. She’d already moved on.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. It’s what happened, and then by mutual agreement we split but decided to stay in touch. We have booty calls every now and then.”

“Really! You mean you still have sex with her? Does her new husband know?”

“Reese made it part of the deal with him. He’s more self-confident and self-assured that she’ll always come back to him than I was, otherwise I might have proposed something like what she did. We’ve only done it maybe a twenty times since she got married and she’s the instigator each time. The fact that she does it signals to me that she’s broken out of her straight-laced ways to some extent. The other thing that warms my heart is that she still tells me she loves me.”

“Wow! That’s cool. I sort of ended up not wanting to talk to Dale any more than I had to. I’ve mellowed a little since those days. I guess if he asked, I’d have a dinner with him, but I don’t see us being intimate ever again. That’d be a reach for me.” Pam thought a moment and asked, “Do you still love Reese?”

“Yeah, if I’m honest with myself. I can’t help it. I went head over heels from the first time we met, so it’s hard to let that go. I’ll always have a warm place in my heart for her, but I’ll never try to win her back or woo her away from her husband. ‘We’ are a past event as a monogamous couple. I’ve moved on, but still have that warm spot for her. She obviously feels the same way. We both still use the ‘L’ word with each other when we’re together.”

Pam said, “That’s sweet. I like that you still love her. I also like the way you described your marriage as a seven-year event that just ran out of juice. You can be philosophical about your own life, and I consider that a great strength in a man. It means he doesn’t take himself so seriously that he’s a nut case.”

I nodded in agreement. I offered with a goofy grin, “I can be a nut case at times.”

After a silence, Pam grinned and said, “I turn to Jon and let him kiss my private areas too, but then I encourage him to pull down my undies. I’m wearing sexy high heels, spike heels that turn you on, and I step out of my panties with each foot, holding onto your shoulder for stability. When I’m nude, Jon leans in and kisses me down there again, only this time, I feel his tongue probe the outer reaches of my slit.”

I spoke softly, “I kiss your gorgeous ass cheeks and run my hands over your entire back and back side, and then up and down your thighs, brushing against your most intimate areas. I use a finger to graze by your pussy, and my kisses are going all over you.”

I paused and asked, “Am I getting too explicit here – taking too many liberties with my words and descriptions? We’ve only just met, and ... well, suddenly I’m taking about how I’d want to make love to you in an erotic situation. Heck, I’m talking about touching your ... intimate areas.”

Pam smiled and then leaned in and kissed me. “You aren’t over the line at all. Remember, I started this and am participating. I’m only getting to the interesting parts now; just wait. I doubt you could say anything to me that would put me off of this discussion ... or off of you. Keep going ... No wait. I have another question for you. Do you get mad? How do you express anger?”

I thought for a moment then responded, “Yes, I get mad, but mostly at myself – at my own shortcomings. When it’s with other people it’s because they didn’t meet some expectations I’d been led to have, but I don’t go all ape-shit on them. I maybe change color, and they know I’m not happy. I’ll talk to them about the situation. I get mad at things too. Most often I express my anger by grumbling around for an hour or so. I might think about it for a day or so, but I rarely carry grudges. That’s bad karma and only hurts me.”

“Have you ever struck out at someone?”

“You mean hit somebody? No, never. I think I’ve yelled a few times, but that’s pretty rare. I’ve stomped around and slammed doors, but again not too often. Heck, that only hurts the door and it’ll become something I have to fix.” I chuckled aloud.

These intermissions in our game seemed so important to the two of us. We were learning about each other in as rapid a way as we could. Part of that learning was the game, but there were these other areas we had to know about too.

Pam said, “Thank you, and you and I get angry in the same way and for the same reasons. Now about our game, ... you were running your hands up my leg and brushing your fingers against my bare pussy. You should know that I have some pussy fuzz down there. I manicure the area so I can always be ready to wear a bikini, something I might add that I look pretty hot in. So, as you arouse my sex, I’m leaking some of my womanly lubrication onto your fingers. I’d also be groaning in anticipation and urging both you and Jon to do more – to touch me more.”

Pam paused and I was about to begin, but she asked, “Bob, are you religious?”

“No,” I responded, obviously eager to continue with our game. “I’m spiritual, but not religious. I have a strong bias against organized religion – too controlling, too corrupt at times, too self-serving, too hypocritical, too unforgiving, and too intolerant. Yes, many churches do good work in the world community, but on a whole, I think we’d be better off without them because they reinforce things in people that I think are bad. Part of my thinking is based on the fact that nearly a billion people have been killed in the name of Christ and Christianity. He supposedly taught about love. Obviously the message didn’t get through to the general populace. Now the Muslims are doing the same thing, and Mohammed taught about love and tolerance too. Then there are the messages about exclusivity – only people in our religion will go to ‘heaven, ‘ and all the messages about conditional love, when all the masters taught us to love unconditionally. Oh, my, you’ve hit one of my hot buttons; let me stop at this. How about you?”

“I’m a recovering catholic, and as for the rest, I think about it just like you do.” Pam paused, “This is the most interesting first meeting discussion I’ve ever had. I know we could go deeper and deeper on most of these topics too.”

“Me too. We sure are trying to learn about each other as fast as we can – like speed dating, but I’ve never done that.”

Pam said softly and with hope in her voice, “That’s because I think we both know there’s a chance that something great will happen with the two of us after this airplane ride.”

Pam took a minute to change tacks. She gave me a lecherous grin and went back to our fantasy. “As you are doing sexual things to me, I reach down and insist that you lose your pants. You and Jon scramble to get rid of shoes, socks, and pants.” She studied me for a moment, “I make you out to be a brief’s man; am I right.”

I laughed, “Yes, you’re right. What about Jon?”

“Oh, he’s definitely a boxer man. Makes no difference to me, just so long as the equipment inside is working reasonably well.”

I stroked Pam’s hand in a sexy way, using two fingers to stroke along her palm that she willingly offered me once we started. Our conversation shifted back and forth but my alluring stroking persisted. I started in again, “As Jon and I reveal our naked bodies, you grab ahold of each of our cocks through our last layer of clothing.”

I paused and watched Pam’s face to see if she reacted to use of the word ‘cock’ in our mutual fantasy. She didn’t flinch, and in fact only grinned back at me. I continued, “You squeeze and stroke and bring both of us up to what I call a ‘10’ on my ten point scale of hardness.”

Pam picked up from there, “I am so excited as I feel you both. You’re both obviously excited and I know I am going to draw exceptional pleasure from both of your big long shafts of joy. I lap my lips in anticipation of what we’ll be doing in a few minutes. Since we’re all naked, I am truly sexually ready for even greater excitement.”

She nodded for me to continue. I spoke, “I take the initiative to lead you over to the sofa. I have you sit in the middle, and then Jon and I sit on either side of you. You immediately start to fondle and masturbate both our cocks. While you’re doing that, we both take turns kissing you and sucking on your beautiful full breasts. Our hands roam over your thighs and pussy, and our fingers drive you mad, sometimes both of us in the same place at the same time.”

As I made my last remark, I glanced down at Pam’s breasts, somewhat covered by the business jacket she wore. She took the hint, and removing her hand from mine, shrugged off the jacket. She set it on her other side over the seat arm.

Even though the aircraft cabin lights were dim, I could see the impression Pam’s hard nipples were making through her bra and the white blouse she wore. I wanted to reach over and touch her, but I resisted lest I move too soon or too fast for this hot woman.

Pam must have read my thoughts, “Are you a breast man, a leg man, an ass man, or what?”

I laughed and gestured to her from head to toe. “I am a man who loves the whole package, but I can certainly enjoy one piece at a time.”

Pam laughed at my dodge. “You smooth talker, that’s apt to get you somewhere.” In an aside to herself she said, “At this stage, almost anything will get you somewhere.”

I raised my eyebrows. I asked, “Why’d you end your marriage?”

Pam smiled, “Got ignored, taken for granted, and often verbally abused – blame shifting I see in hindsight. I guess to go back to something we said earlier, it was about expectations. He wasn’t meeting mine, and I wasn’t meeting his. I tried to get him to go to counseling, but he wouldn’t hear of it. It wasn’t manly, he said. Would you go to counseling to save a relationship?”

I smiled, “I did, but by the time we started it was a lost cause. If I’d suggested it the year before we might have pulled it out of the fire, but we waited too long, or I should say she waited too long; I was just being an insensitive man. More to your question, I would do anything to preserve a good relationship. Finding new ones that are worth pursuing takes much more energy than working on the existing one you’re in.”

“I like your thinking.”

I added, “Moreover, I’m of a mind to have a few counseling sessions when a relationship starts getting serious. The shrink Reese and I had, and I suspect many, have a knack for getting a couple to talk about things they dismiss, sweep under the rug, or avoid all together. Those are often the ‘expectations, ‘ as you said, and they can be the things that eventually become the gorilla in the corner. People need to talk like we’ve been doing on this trip. After Reese, I had a whole different approach to intra-relationship communications.”

Pam smiled and then leaned across the gap between us and kissed me very tenderly a few times. The kisses were the most romantic I’d experienced in at least the past three or four years. It was also erotic, and I could feel myself harden at all the hidden suggestions it portended.

Pam said softly, “As I sit between you and Jon, and I am holding your big hard cocks in each hand, I love the feeling of power and completeness you bring me. I know where these cocks will be shortly, and I drip with anticipation. I stop for a second and bring your hand from my breast to my pussy. You know exactly what I’m asking for.”

I picked up her cue feeling better about how explicit we were allowing our little fantasy to wander, certainly my part. “Yes, I start to stroke your slit, feeling the heavenly moisture you exude to welcome us. As I do, I memorize the landscape by feel, particularly where your nubbin of a clitoris is that I plan to make an all out assault on in only seconds.”

Pam sighed. This was turning her on maybe more than me, and I was getting really turned on by our conversation.

Pam pulled me to her again, and we spent several minutes French kissing. As we did, I returned to stroking the palm of her right hand in the sexiest way I knew how; she stared at our hands and smiled. After a few minutes, I took a sip of the last of the Grand Marnier and in a kiss with her jetted the liqueur into her mouth.

After we French kissed for a minute or two, Pam whispered, “I wish that was ... I’ll tell you later in our game.”

After some more kisses Pam gave a couple more sentences to our fantasy, “I lean over and start to kiss the rock hard head of Jon’s cock as you watch me and smooth my skin. Seconds later I engulf the head in my mouth, and start to give him a blowjob. I hold his cock in one hand that twists and turns around the shaft as I bob up and down on it, slavering all over the rod. I love the feel of his shaft in my mouth and in my hand. I love the feel of your fingers as they stroke along my pussy lips.”

I leaned in and kissed Pam again. I asked in a low tone, “What turns you on?”

She smiled at me in a sexy way, “What we’re doing now; and you should know I have never done anything like this before. I’ve been a demure woman up until I met you. For some reason, you inspired me to be a naughty girl. I hope you like naughty girls.” She kissed me again, her tongue worming its way deep into my mouth. As she kissed, her hand stroked my chest and my neck.

Pam said, “I like sex a lot too, in any form, although I’ve been without it for a long time, although you wouldn’t know that from watching or listening to me tonight. I’ve been sublimating by getting deep into my career and some charity work, but underneath that thin veneer I think I’m ready to breakout and be a slut of some kind. Does that shock you, and make you want to run the other way once we get off the plane?”

I gave her a brief kiss on the lips, “No, it makes me want to get to know you that much better so I can play a role in your games too ... or just watch, or hear about them if you’re willing to share. I think I’m about to love slutty women more than anything in the world.”

“What do you mean ‘watch’?” Pam picked out a key point in my phrasing.

“If you were with another man or woman, or men or women, I’d want to see how you reacted to them, and how you had sex with them, and how turned on you could get – how much you would be willing to let go and do anything with them. Of course, I’d want to join them in creating pleasure for you – more orgasms and sexual satisfaction than you can imagine.”

“Oh, God, you really are a sexy man. Just that thought turns me on. Are you sure you’ve never been in a threesome or orgy or whatever?”

“Nope. I read erotic stories online, and I have an imagination that often focuses on sexual things.”

“That turns me on too; I like imaginative people, “ Pam said softly. “I hope we can be friends for long time because I need someone like you in my life – a horny someone who’s not afraid to say things or do things to me.”

I smiled, “So in our fantasy, you won’t be surprised when I gently turn you over onto your back on the sofa so Jon can lay his long cock into your mouth from above. While he’s doing that, I kneel in front of you and run my tongue up each of your thighs, and then around your mons. When I’m tired of that I delve my tongue into your slit, tasting your wonderful nectar again and again. I worm it deep inside you, but always returning to your clit because that’s your pleasure point, and I know I can drive you to some hedonistic heaven by focusing there.”

Pam muttered, “Oh, shit, you are so turning me on. I’m going to have to spend hours with my toys when I get home.”

“What kind of toys? Are they better than my tongue would be?”

“A nice dildo with little bumps on it, and also another one that vibrates. I can insert it into myself and it has a little thing called a rabbit that rests against my clit and vibrates. I can really get off with the two of them, and no, they’re probably no where near as good as you.” She paused and blushed. “I can’t believe I just confessed my masturbation habits to a stranger. Did I mention that I use them almost every day?”

I kissed Pam. “I masturbate almost every day too; a lot of people do. Do you really think we’re still strangers after building our fantasy and then sharing so many details about our lives?”

Pam just nodded and asked in a romantic tone, “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“Yes. Do you think that’s what happening here? I have some qualifications, however.”

Pam nodded very slowly. “I hope you ask me that question in a month. I’ll know for sure then. I’m trying to be clear headed and rational, but you make it very hard.”

I jumped my turn in our fantasy, “Soooo, as I’m lapping at your pussy, I also bring up my hand and along with my tongue I start to massage your sex area gently, until I slip two fingers inside you.”

Pam volunteered, “I’m very orgasmic. I can even peak just from someone playing with my breasts on the right day. So as you lick me and finger fuck me, I will certainly start to cum, probably having one orgasm right after the other.”

“I like positive feedback.”

“Oh, I’ll give you plenty of that.”

I spoke more seriously, “I’m a little wary of love at first sight. Maybe it’s because of my divorce. I believe in chemistry and pheromones and immediate compatibility, and I think we’re feeling all of that right now. I also think you’re right, and that I’ll have a better answer in a month.”

Pam said, “You never said what turned you on.”

I laughed, “I’m a guy; practically everything turns us on, even the odor of low tide. Seriously though, I like being touched – sexually or romantically. I like to watch a pretty woman, particularly if she is nude or nearly so, and particularly if she is having an orgasm. I like the feel of an erect nipple on the palm of my hand or better yet etching its way across my chest or my tongue. I like sexy stories or someone telling me about a seduction they were part of, or a fantasy. I love the natural aroma of a woman’s sex.”

“What turns you off?”

I chuckled, “Unfounded bitchiness, and I have to temper that by saying there are times I probably deserve it. The silent treatment when I don’t know why. Manipulation when it’s for personal gain. Horror films. Liver and onions served with turnips. Narrow-minded thinking. Bigotry. Racism. People blindly following some rule without critical thinking, particularly things involving some God, marriage and relationships, or standards of living.”

“Explain that last part, please.”

“Some examples. Many religions preach we shouldn’t have sex unless we’re married. Why? Who made that an absolute rule? Fortunately, most people ignore it anyway. Another rule is about monogamy and exclusivity; we can only love one other person in a romantic-sexual way. That’s plain silly. Of course you can love many people that way, so why not. And third, and I promise I’m not being patronizing, women should be subjugated to men in some way – who’s the boss at home, unequal pay, promotions, and on and on. Any truly critical thinker would throw those rules out with the trash along with thousands of other memes passed down in society. Unfortunately, many of the bad ones have been legislated into laws that affect everyone – those that see the truth as well as the unseeing.”

“You’re deep. Another question, do you cry?”

“In a good movie, absolutely. About sad things that happen, yes.”

When did you last cry?

“A female friend told me she’d been diagnosed with breast cancer, and we had a good cry about it.”

“Do you have a man cave and want to spend time alone, even when in a relationship?”

“Yes, and yes. Everyone needs some alone time, if not for meditation and reflection, just some time ‘off the stage’ of a relationship so you can get some perspective back on it – men and women, and men maybe more because we don’t tend to talk about our relationships except in broad terms with our friends. Most of the women I know have at least one good friend who they share everything with. Do you?”

Pam said, “Yes, one definitely. I have a few more I share a lot with but not everything.”

I speculated, “I bet you’ll have fun sharing this encounter with them tomorrow.”

Pam giggled slightly, “You know I will.

I kissed Pam and went back to our fantasy. “More fantasy. As I’m lapping at your pussy and fingering your vagina, I use first two fingers and then three. You are moaning and squirming around, breasts shaking erotically, as you use one hand to direct Jon’s cock to your mouth and tongue. Gradually, I add a fourth finger, and then I tuck my thumb into my palm and gently push my entire hand into your body. Suddenly, I am fisting you.”

Pam looked at me with big eyes and a slight smile.

I continued, “With my entire hand inside you to my wrist, I start to turn my hand. At first, I focus on your G-spot, dragging my knuckles across the interior spot that backs up to your clit. You cum about a dozen times in two minutes. You are in some heaven not of this planet.”

“Could you really do that?” Pam had a touch of awe in her voice.

“Yes, I believe I could for some women. I’ve seen it done in a couple of porn films, but I read about it too. I’ve tried it on a couple of women and it worked.”

Pam eagerly added to our fantasy, “After a colossal orgasm, I reach down and hold your hand still. You comply, but I can see the look on your face and you have something even more erotic for me. I try to read what it might be.”

Pam nudged me to continue with her eyes sparkling. She was taunting me, and I knew it; she wanted to know what I’d come up with next. I thought a minute and began, “I extend my long tapered fingers inside you, reaching up with a small push towards your cervix. Just in front of that I feel around with my finger tips until I feel your body jerk in a pleasure reaction from somewhere I touched; just the reaction I was seeking.”

“I use my fingertips to rub the area inside you with tenderness and lust. You watch me with huge hopeful eyes that reveal both your lust and your love. I can feel your body starting to climb up some imaginary ladder towards the stars. You are panting harder than ever now. You’ve stopped sucking on Jon’s cock and are just holding it near your face. As I feel you start to crest, I use my other hand to rub and tweak your breasts and nipples, and then I go beneath you and as you peak I drive a finger into your ass – not very far, but enough to add to the erotic stimulation.”

“You have the mother of all orgasms, announcing to the world that this is the best, hottest, most pleasurable, most wonderful orgasm you’ve ever had. And you peak higher and higher, going far beyond what you thought your body was capable of in terms of responding or even enduring. You then faint as the pleasure becomes too much for you. This is called La Petite Mort – the little death; the French term some use for an orgasm so great it’s beyond description. You awaken seconds later, and we kiss and make out.”

Pam studied my face with awe and seriousness. “You know how to do that?”

“I’ve done it two times – the whole experience. I don’t think I’m an expert just yet.”

“And the women you did it to aren’t following you around pestering you to do it to them again and again on an hourly basis?”

I chuckled, “No, not that I notice, although I have had some requests for repeat performances. My ex-wife was one of them.”

“Hell, no wonder she keeps coming back to your bed. For me, that’d be an all-time peak lifetime experience the way you describe it. Do that to me and I might never let you get out of my bed.”

“I’ll strive for that goal.” I smiled seductively. The fact that we were mixing fantasy and reality again was not lost on me.

Pam was thoughtful for a few minutes, and then made a zigzag in our conversation. “Tell me about your parents.”

Her question provoked a brief discussion about both our parents, and the positive and negative traits we inherited from them. All our parents were still living, but not in Florida.”

In a silence the flight attendant walked by and looked down on the two of us with an almost angelic expression. Pam and I were holding hands and leaning against each other in an obviously romantic way.

Pam said softly, “After my stupendous orgasm, I break away from Jon and spread myself open to you. I want you to make love to me. I want us coupled and ... putting on a show for Jon. I want him jealous of your lovemaking skills.” She paused and the added, “I want your cock plunging deep inside me.”

I said, “And I bury my cock so deep inside you it would take a search party years to find it, and then we mate in mind, body, and spirit, and on multiple dimensions of the heart and soul. I want you to feel my deepest and inner most love for you, to know that there is no corner of my consciousness and spirit that does not yearn for the oneness that we achieve in our lovemaking and in our relationship.”

Pam threw herself in my arms and kissed me so hard I feared that my lips might come away bruised. She brought my hand to her breast, and by her motions made sure I knew that I was supposed to fondle her breasts. I stroked, teased and pinched through the silky material of her blouse and bra, finally invited to partake of her body. We kept kissing as I fondled her.

After a minute of being smoothed that way, she glanced around the first class cabin and then took my hand and placed it under her skirt. The implication was clear and unequivocal. I stroked up and down Pam’s thighs in a sensuous way as we kissed.

Suddenly, Pam stood and stepped over me into aisle. She said, “Be right back, don’t go away.” I was puzzled at her impulsive action, but she stepped towards the lavatory at the front of the plane and went in. I also wondered where I might go away to, given that we were in a tin can flying at five-hundred miles an hour about seven miles above the earth. Seconds later she was back beside me.

Pam sat and then dangled her bikini panties from one finger in front of my watering mouth. Shit. Under her skirt I knew she was nude and inviting. She took my hand and again placed it under her skirt. I ran my hand up each thigh, stopping just short of her pussy each time. She squirmed in her seat trying to get me to touch her most intimate area.

Pam panted to me as we kissed, “Feel me, please. Bury your fingers in me. Make love to me.”

I did just as she instructed, snugging two fingers into her moist cunt. Pam was dripping wet, so I knew she’d gotten as turned on by what we were doing as I had. I began to slowly saw them in and out of her, hearing the suction and squish sounds of my act despite the noise of the plane and the act being under her skirt. Pam got wetter and wetter, and had obviously been thinking about sex for a long time.

Pam groaned into my ear as she held onto me like a life raft, “Oh, God. You are such a good lover. I never want to let you go.”

At one point she reached for my crotch, obviously intent on doing something with my cock. She felt the need to reciprocate in some way for the pleasure I was bringing her.

I turned my head and kissed her. “Baby, please don’t worry about me right now. I’ll either mess up my pants, shoot something all over your beautiful business suit, get caught by the air crew, or end up more frustrated than I already am. There’ll be another time for that.”

Pam moaned into me, “I hope it’s pretty damn soon after we get off this fucking airplane. I hope you’ll come home with me, at least for a little while. We are so going to need each other.” After a long pause with her eyes closed savoring the finger fuck she was getting she said, “I hope you come home with me and never leave. You can do this to me all day – hell, all year.”

“I already feel that way too ... and if you give me the opportunity I just might do this to you all weekend.” I continued to try to work my magic on Pam’s quim under her skirt; occasionally glancing around the aircraft cabin to be sure we wouldn’t be disturbed. Anyone seeing us would have no doubt about what was happening. I hoped that the attendant or the other passenger near us couldn’t hear the frequent sounds of my hand slapping against her labia or her moans of ecstasy. Pam seemed way beyond caring whether we were discovered or not, so long as I didn’t stop what I was doing.

After a few minutes of my tormenting her vagina and clit, Pam moaned into one of our French kisses and whispered in a gasp, “Cumming. Cumming hard.”

Seconds later, Pam moaned quite loudly and then her legs slammed together trapping my hand with my fingers deep inside her and stopping the possibility of any further motion. With my fingertips I stroked her G-stop a couple more times. I could feel her vagina spasm around the two fingers I had inside her, and I knew I’d triggered not only her orgasm, but also a copious amount of womanly fluid to aid in our finger fuck. My hand was soaked.

Gradually, Pam relaxed and I extracted my hand from between her legs. She looked at me with big dark eyes and then kissed me really hard again. She said, “I know this is crazy, but I think I’m falling in love with you. I ... well, that’s terribly forward of me ... to say that ... and I hope...”

My next kiss thwarted any further unneeded efforts at apology from Pam.

After we parted I made a show of sucking on the two fingers that had been inside her body, and the rest of my hand that had gotten her fluids all over it. Not only was the aroma of her sex intoxicating as they got nearer my face, but the taste proved to be divine and something to be savored. The odor and taste turned me on even more than I was. I was trying to think how we could join the Mile High Club on this flight, but I knew that there would be no opportunity despite many fictional stories I’d read to the contrary.

We made out for a few minutes. Pam said in an embarrassed tone, “I think we made the whole first class section smell like sex. What do we do?”

I reached up and turned on the overhead air to the maximum. The blast of cool air came down between the two of us. Pam raised her skirt to try to funnel some of the rush of air between her legs. I caught more than a significant look at her pussy. She blushed, but made sure I got a good long look, and then dropped her skirt back.

I stood and opened the air vents on the seats across the aisle and then over the seats behind us. When I looked around, the guy behind us was still asleep with his eyeshades on, and the flight attendant apparently was still reading in the galley jump seat.

I glanced at Pam. She was delicately stepping back into her bikini briefs. She gave me a sexy look and then flashed me again by pulling her skirt up so I could see her pussy. She blushed but I felt sure she knew the effect she was having on me. I had a rock hard lump in my pants that threatened to explode out of my zipper.

I went into the lavatory and washed my face and hands. I thought about masturbating, but decided I wanted to save my sexual energy for Pam, that is, if she was serious about having me over to her home.

As soon as I returned to my seat, Pam got up and went to the lavatory. She was gone a long time. When she got back, she told me she tried to wash away the sex juices that I’d stirred up in her and that I’d smeared around her midsection. I’d apparently done a really good job of everything. She made me laugh and I think she also found humor in our predicament. Gradually the odor dissipated, at least as far as we could tell.

We held hands and layback with our eyes closed, but as close to each other as the seat separator allowed. Pam said, “Tell me about your close friends.”

I told her about my friend Jon and his wife Amy. I’d glanced at Pam as I mentioned the names and her eyes shot open.

“You mean there really is a Jon? Oh, my. If I ever meet him I will blush nine shades of scarlet.”

“He’d probably like to meet you too, only I doubt he’ll blush so much. Maybe you’ll forget about our little fantasy ... or, on the other hand, maybe we can arrange a threesome.” I described Jon and Amy, and talked about what a fun couple they were. I then talked about my brother Brad, who lived near Atlanta, and a high school friend named Jorge I kept in touch with and who I Skyped with at least once a month. I then went into my work friends too, mostly clients or ex-clients miles away from home.”

Pam described a couple of her friends to me: Emily and Trish. After she’d done that she reflected back on something I’d said, “Bob, you said I’d forget about our little fantasy that we did on and off for the past three hours, ... and then how you helped me have an orgasm. I want you to know that I will never forget what we said and did. This has been the nicest, hottest, most erotic trip I’ve ever taken and I don’t want to forget a single second.” She studied me and added, “I really meant what I said too.”

“About loving me?”

“Yes,” Pam said in a voice I almost couldn’t hear.

“Good, because I think I love you too, at least we’re at the beginning of it. We’re on an even keel.” I leaned in and kissed her. I realized I could keep kissing her for a long, long time, and even then I might never tire of her. “If this isn’t love at first sight, I don’t know what is. I’m not sure how the future will play out for us, but I have a warm fuzzy feeling that we are going to be in each other’s lives in very meaningful and loving ways for quite a while.”

We heard the change in the sound of the engines and of the air rushing past the plane as the nose dipped slightly. We’d started our descent into Tampa.

Pam put her head on my shoulder and I kissed her hair from time to time as we cuddled. Fifty minutes later we were on the ground. We didn’t talk much.

I turned to Pam once we’d gotten off the plane and made it into the terminal. I said sheepishly, “I have a confession to make. I didn’t book a first class ticket. I got upgraded.”

Pam laughed, “Neither did I. I was an upgrade too.” She thought for a moment and said, “Why do you suppose they seated us next to each other when there were all those other seats available.”

I chuckled, “Cupid? Some pretty ticket agent playing matchmaker?”

Pam nodded and said hopefully, “How are you getting home?”

“I have my car in long-term parking.”

“Want a passenger? I was going to take one of those hourly airport limos to near my home and then get a taxi. I really meant what I said. I want you to come home with me.”

“That sounds like the best deal in my whole life.” I held my arms open to her and she moved into them for some more kisses, this time with our bodies pushing against each other for some serious contact.

We stood in the midst of a steady flow of passengers rushing to and from early morning flights. We were kissing. We were also falling deeper in love.

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